


Man Up

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, F/M, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Romantic Comedy, Setups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9531356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Merlin has all but given up on relationships when he meets a gorgeous stranger under a train station clock who mistakes him for his blind date.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story casts the cast of BBC's Merlin into the movie 'Man Up (2015)'. I watched it one night when I was bored, and was delighted to find that I loved it, and now I want to see how it would play out with Merlin characters instead. This is almost exactly like the movie, except for a few dialogue changes and some other things switched up so it seemed a bit more 'in character' to me. Otherwise, you almost might as well watch the actual movie, because it is the same story. I highly recommend it. It can be found on Netflix, and stars the lovely Simon Pegg and Lake Bell.
> 
> Unbeta'd and unbrit-picked. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

Merlin sat in front of the mirror, smiling slightly as he stared at himself.

"Come on." He took generous sips from his small bottle of beer, then set it down on top of Freya and Will's engagement party invitation. He tried smiling some more in the mirror in hopes of finding his 'best looks'. It wasn't working terribly well.

"Hi," he said, as pleasantly as he was capable. He groaned, "What?"

"Hello, Rose. I'm Merlin." He looked down to where he was gesturing, and grimaced. "Wha... What is this? Why...?"

He cleared his throat. "Has it...?" No. "What's your, uh...?" Nope.

"Hey-- It's Rose, right? Isn't it? Is it Rose? I mean," he backtracked, "not as in 'Rose Wright'." He chuckled, still gesturing. "Like, your name's not 'Rose Wright'. Though it could be. You could be 'Miss Rose Wright'. You could be 'Missus Right'." He forces a laugh. "Either way, you're the right Rose for me."

Oh, my God.

He nodded at himself. "You can do this. You just put yourself out there. See what happens." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Just don't drink too much."

He snorted unattractively.

"Good. And you're going..." He put the stupid lei over his head, so it hung on his neck. He looked back at himself. "You're going. You're gone."

He stood up and strode purposefully through his hotel suite to the door, and pulled it open forcefully. He promptly closed it again, still inside the room. He strode back to the mirror.

"Oh, fuck it," he mumbled, taking off the damned lei. The bottle of cool beer looked delicious, and he sipped some more of it gratefully.

Once he'd called for room service and changed out of his ridiculous suit, into a more comfortable hoodie and some sweatpants, he climbed onto the bed. _The Silence of the Lambs_ was playing on TV, one of his favorite movies, and he mouthed along to the lines as he ate some crisps.

" _Terns? If I help you Clarice, it will be 'turns' with us, too. Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things. Not about this case, though-- about yourself. Quid pro quo. Yes or no?"_

A knock on the door startled him, and he quickly powered off the television during Lecter's next line. The door opened to a heavy-set, but nice looking young man with a trolley which carried, Merlin assumed, his dinner.

"Hi!" the man said cheerfully.

"Hi."

"Room service?"

"Oh... yes!" Merlin backed away from the door and gestured further into the room. "Right this way." He sprawled back on top of his bed, his spirits somewhat lifted. Food could solve many things, he reasoned. At least for a little while.

The server smiled as he stopped the trolley in front of him, and prepared his meal for him, pouring him some wine as well.

Merlin snatched a piece of bacon, and mumbled happily. "So, tell me... Joseph. Can I call you Joe?"

"Of course you can, yeah."

Merlin nodded. "So, Joe, how is the party going on downstairs?"

Joe completed his tasks, and turned to him. "Going pretty well, I think."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, yeah." Joe said quietly, "You know, there's food down there."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Merlin said quickly. "I - I'm just not really in the party mood tonight." When his ringtone started to chime, he reached for his phone on the bedside table. It was Gwen, because of course it was. He decided to just answer the phone, knowing there was no use in delaying this conversation.

"Do you have any ketchup, Joe, please?" he asked as he put the phone to his ear.

"Oh, yeah."

Merlin nodded his gratitude. "Hello?"

_"Who's Joe?"_ came Gwen's voice from over the receiver.

"Mm," Merlin licked his fingers clean and looked at Joe as the man came up with some ketchup. "A very nice young man who's just brought me dinner."

Gwen sounded put out when she asked, _"You're not at the party?"_

Merlin swallowed around another piece of bacon. It was quite delicious, extra crispy and warm. "I'm not at _the_ party, but I'm at _a_ party. You know, Hannibal and Clarice are here, not to mention Joe."

Joe handed him the receipt, and he quickly signed it. The signature was not at all legible, but it didn't seem to matter, never really did, and he gave the little booklet back to his server. "... But he's just leaving."

_"No, all right. Put him on, please."_

Merlin groaned, but called out, "Joe? My friend would like to speak to you." He held out his phone for the man to take, muttering a quick apology.

Joe 'ahem'ed a couple of times before saying, "Hello?"

Merlin couldn't hear what Gwen was saying, but didn't worry too much about it. The burger he was enjoying was just a bit distracting. That was, until Joe said, "Ah, yes okay."

The man had grabbed the suit Merlin had hung up on the closet door, and was bringing it back to him. "Oh, no," Merlin protested. "No, no, no. No, no, Joe--," but the suit had already been placed on the bed. Merlin rolled his eyes in irritation. Gwen wasn't even here, and she still managed to have everything her own way. "Okay, that's enough." He set down his burger, reluctantly, and made grabby hands for his phone. "Joe, do you have a napkin or something, please?"

"Oh, yes." Joe gave him his phone back, looking rather relieved. Merlin didn't blame him.

"Look, Gwen, I've been ambushed. Some setup with a girl Freya worked with--"

_"Well, excellent!"_ Gwen interrupted excitedly. _"This is good."_

Merlin moved up onto his knees when Joe handed him a napkin. "Come on," he grumbled, leaning against Joe for support. "It's just all so organized and awkward and I can't bear it."

_"I know, but how the hell else are you going to meet someone?"_

"Well, I've met Joe," Merlin said hopefully, looking at the man he'd been leaning up against. But, "No, he's leaving. All right, he didn't like that. Um," he called after the man, "could you put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on, please, Joe?"

_"No, don't do it, Joe._ Take him with you!"

Merlin winced at Gwen's raised voice, pulling the phone away from his ear slightly. "Ugh-- You're yelling."

_"Look, you've gone all the way there. Just, put your suit on. Pop down, show your face. Stay, like, ten minutes."_

Merlin wished he had a wall to pound his head against. As it was, he was much too lazy to crawl to the nearest one, metres away. "The party's _themed_ , Gwen."

Merlin was not impressed as Gwen giggled. _"Oh, God, really? Get your notepad."_

The thought of his notepad, and subsequently, what Gwen was bound to make him do with it, made him seriously consider going the extra few metres to slam his head into the wall. Maybe it would knock him out, if nothing else. "No, _please_ ," he begged. "Come on, I'm too old for this shit."

Gwen sounded particularly stern when she said, _"You're 32, not 82."_

Merlin huffed, but gave in eventually. He took a cursory look around the room and found his notebook lying on his pillow. Where he had left it, would you look at that.

_"Come on, let's hear those mantras,"_ came Gwen's voice once he'd grabbed the pad.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but cleared his throat as he reached the right page. "Put yourself out there."

This was ridiculous.

_"Good,"_ Gwen encouraged.

"Take chances."

_"Uh-huh. Now a little less hollow and robotic."_

✯☽☀☾✯

Merlin continued his mantras down the elevator. He'd had them for about four years now, ever since the horrid break up with Vivian. It was around that time that he'd gotten all depressed and whatnot, hurt and upset that he had wasted so many years (six, to be exact) on a girl he thought he loved, but who clearly did not feel the same about him. It was Gwen who sat him down and insisted he stop wallowing in his self-pity and get his life back on track. She was the one who'd made him come up with the little self-confidence boosters, and Merlin had been, at least a little bit, grateful to her for it. They had managed to help some, but it was moments like these when he felt too old for his age and pessimistic towards almost everything that he found them more nonsensical than helpful.

He liked to think he was a realist. He was a writer, after all, and so he spent a lot of time thinking about things. More and more recently, specific things - like love and relationships, and how they came to be, how they stayed that way. And sex. He thought about that a lot, too. Clearly he wasn't the posterchild for good and loving relationships, but he liked to believe that he knew a thing or two about it, all the same. And he had certainly come up with many opinions concerning it. In fact, if he wanted, he could probably write a book.

Maybe he would. ' _A Realist's Guide to Working Relationships: Just Don't Have One'._

He cringed. Maybe he would think more on it before he got to work.

The elevator dinged and the mechanic doors slid open to reveal an empty hallway. The sounds of music and a party were coming through the doors that stood closed right in front of the elevator. Merlin hurriedly stepped out, continuing his mantras quietly regardless of what he really thought about them.

"Get stronger biceps." He stood in front of the doors, hesitant to open them. "Be more outgoing. Learn Welsh. Drink less. Exercise more. Understand the Israeli-Palestinian conflict better." Merlin finally put his hands to the door and pushed them open. "Engage with..."

Oh, God. So many people. People with hula skirts and colorful t-shirts. People with leis (and, fuck, he'd forgotten his) and flowy dresses and shorts and loose trousers. People with any number of assortment of drinks and pineapples and cherries. Carefree people, laughing people. And then there was awkward Merlin in a damn _suit and tie_. Why did he think this would be a good idea? Oh, yes...

"... life."

Will spotted him almost immediately, rushing over with a lei in hand (because, of course) and put the thing over Merlin's head. Merlin was really getting rather tired of the things.

"Finally!" Will exclaimed. "Nearly sent out a search party."

Merlin forced a laugh. "Better call them off then."

Will grinned and turned just in time to grab a couple drinks from a passing waiter. "Here, have a mojito," he said, passing a glass over which Merlin took gratefully. He ignored the little umbrella, going right for the straw. "First one's free. Paid for them with all my savings, and now I have no savings."

Merlin chuckled, genuinely this time. "Happy engagement, Will." They both stepped closer to reach their arms around each other and squeezed. Merlin was very happy for Will and Freya, two very close friends of his, despite any of his misgivings. They broke apart when Merlin heard a squeal.

A tiny body collided with his own, arms wrapped so tight around his neck he thought he might suffocate, and _Christ_ , Freya was stronger than she looked.

"Wow, hello there," Merlin choked out, patting her back gently.

She released him, thankfully, and pulled back to grab his hands, jumping up and down. "He's here, he's here. Oh, Merlin, you look _wonderful_!"

At his friend's warm welcome, Merlin felt guilty that he'd almost not come down before. They were both quite lovely, and deserved all the congratulations that he managed to give. "Cheers."

Freya squealed some more, something she only did when she was both incredibly excited, and incredibly wasted. She grasped Will's upper arm as she insisted, "Oh, he's going to love him. Come on."

Will helped push Merlin farther into room while Freya gestured encouragingly. "Come on, come on."

Merlin, slightly confused, tried to protest, "I need a moment longer with my mojito and then I can jump in."

Freya shook her head, pulling on Merlin's empty hand. "He _hates_ facebook. He _loves_ yoga. He's really creative..."

"Oh?" What the hell was she talking about?

"And he's _perfect_ for you!" she finished happily.

_Who?_ Merlin wanted to scream. _He?_ Who the fuck was _he?_ Merlin could only nod at the couple. They were probably just too drunk to even know what the hell they were saying anymore.

"We were set up," Will said, which Merlin thought was a stretch from what had _really_ happened, "and look at us now."

Merlin tried not wince when Freya proudly showed off her ring finger, and they both started kissing frantically. Though, in Merlin's opinion, it looked more like they were trying to eat each other's faces rather than an actual kiss.

Merlin laughed forcefully. "Do you know Will? It's like your single years have been completely wiped from your memory. I mean, do you remember--" What was he doing?  "Do you remember that one girl who just _cried?_ She cried all the way through giving you a blow job." Please, Merlin, _please_ shut up. You're not even drunk yet. "She was weeping." He mimicked gagging and sobbing at the same time. "So sad. Do you remember..."

He trailed off at the looks on his friends' faces. Holy shit, what was he doing? Why did he say that? He was such a god-awful person. This was exactly why he didn't want to come tonight. Or, at least, part of the reason. He really _was_ unable to keep his opinionated attitude to himself. "And look at you now," he tried to save himself. "Look at you both. Yeah, really special."

Will seemed to ignore the whole thing, for which Merlin was grateful. "Come on, Merls. Give him a chance."

Back to that again, were we? He still hadn't the slightest idea about whom they were speaking of, but perhaps if he played along they'd get to the point.

He chuckled too loudly. "Sure, okay. Bring it on. You know, like me, another sad loser in his early-30s, right?"

"No. I'm actually a sad single loser in my late-30s."

Merlin spun around, so quickly he thought he might've gotten whiplash, and he resisted the urge to clutch at his head. A man stood there, also in a suit but without the tie, holding a drink of his own. He did look to be in his late-30s, tall with curly brown hair and a shy smile. Merlin raised a brow in surprise.

Freya, luckily, jumped in right there to save him. "Merlin, this is Ross! Ross, Merlin," she introduced, and _oh_.

_Ross_.

Freya and Will left them to themselves, with Merlin silently freaking out. How the fuck did he miss the fact that they'd set him up with a _man._ Why did they think...? It wasn't that he really had much of a preference, true, as he could appreciate a lovely, firm chest as much as he could a plentiful bosom. But he'd never _told_ anyone that.

Merlin smiled awkwardly at the man, trying to push the thoughts from his head. He clumsily tried to switch his drink to his left hand so he could shake the man's hand that he was holding out.

The man laughed and appeared to be just as awkward as he felt, Merlin was glad to note. "Um, right. Ross, 37."

Merlin nodded. "Merlin, 32." They kept shaking hands, and Merlin wasn't sure he knew how to let go. It felt like, in his anxiety, his hand had frozen and clamped up like that. "Sorry, my hand's a bit wet. It's not wee," he was quick to point out, for a reason that he really couldn't figure out at the moment.

Finally, the man - _Ross_ \- was the one to let go. "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Merlin went on. He really wished he'd shut up. "It's mojito."

Ross started to nod and then shake his head. Merlin always knew he could bewilder people like that, and he hated it.

"I mean," Ross finally said, "I didn't think it was wee."

Merlin nodded quickly, and then couldn't seem to stop. What was wrong with him? Well, other than the obvious.

"Yeah, I mean, why would it be wee? That would imply very poor personal hygiene. I mean I don't," he started gesturing with his free hand, and he wished he'd stop. "... I wash my hands," he finally said when Ross looked mildly uncomfortable. Merlin elaborated, "Just like everyone else does."

"Well, that's a relief," Ross said. He still looked uncomfortable. Merlin hated himself.

He clamped his jaw shut before anything else terribly unwise could come out, and mentally reminded himself to add ' _Learn how to better socialize'_ to his list of mantras. In the awkward silence that ensued, Merlin could only take small sips from his mojito. He wanted to leave.

After another excruciating few moments, Ross spoke up. "Uh, how about another drink?"

Merlin didn't even think about the fact that his first one wasn't even halfway finished. Which was rather surprising, all things considered. He just said, "Yeah, that would be great. Yeah."

Ross led him to the bar, and Merlin tried to put on a brave smile when he saw Freya and Will waving at him and giving him a thumbs up.

When they reached the bar, he saw Ross reaching for his wallet, and immediately said, "Oh, let me get these." He reached into his back pocket for his own wallet, hoping against hope that he at least would've had the foresight to bring enough cash. He already felt bad about his first impression, and he hoped he could make up for it.

"Oh, no, it's fine," said Ross.

"No, it's alright," Merlin tried to argue, but he couldn't seem to get his damn wallet from the tight pocket.

"No, no, seriously," Ross insisted, his wallet already in hand.

Merlin felt guilty, but figured the night couldn't get any worse after this, so conceded. "Great. Cheers, mate." At Ross' nod, he added, "I'll just get the next round, shall I?"

Ross just smiled slightly and nodded some more in agreement. Merlin wanted greatly to avoid another awkward silence, and desperately looked around the general vicinity for a new topic. He found one from a picture in Ross' wallet that he still had open. It was of a young man with a handsome smile.

"Ah, busted," he said. At Ross' curious look, he pointed at the picture. "You've got a picture of your ex in the old wallet."

Ross chuckled hesitantly. "Oh, no, that's my brother."

Merlin wished he would learn to think before he spoke. His mother always told him it wasn't right to just assume things. "Oh--" he said, trying to salvage the situation. "Well, he's very handsome looking. I bet he has all the girls' and boys' attention."

"He's, um, dead."

Merlin blanched and had to turn away. "Wow," he muttered miserably. "It's going so well." He gulped down his mojito.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin removed his bluish-grey beanie hat as he got on the train, luggage bag in hand. He was endlessly glad to be leaving Hertfordshire. He put his phone between his ear and shoulder as he stuffed the hat into his bag. "No, Gwen, I've got pictures of my dogs in my wallet, and they're alive and kicking and I _want_ people to ask me about them."

Needless to say, his 'date', or whatever it was, had _not_ worked out in the slightest, and Ross and he had departed on the most awkward of terms possible.

Gwen had been equally amused when he'd told her of his first mistake as she was sympathetic when he had told her how it all ended.

It wasn't very fair, really.

He held back onto his phone, moving as quickly as possible down the small aisle in between the seats on each side.

_"Well, it's good that you went,"_ Gwen said. Merlin was constantly surprised that she could be so optimistic about literally everything. It made him wonder how they were even friends after all this time, despite their contrasting personalities.

"Why?" he asked unhappily, settling into a seat with a table, a good-looking young man sitting across from him. "Why is it good? It's just so excruciating and predictable, just as it always is." He irritably chewed off a bite of his sandwich, which he'd picked up on his way to the train station. "Maybe I'll just go celibate. I could be a priest, or something."

Gwen laughed despite herself. _"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You wouldn't last a day."_

Merlin grumbled. "How do you know?"

He could practically _hear_ her rolling her eyes. She didn't deem that with a response. _"Come on, how long are you going to be?"_

Lance's voice suddenly filtered over the line. " _Get your ass over here,_ pronto _. We have a lot of nibbles to put into a lot of bowls."_

Merlin chuckled. "Er, 'bout two hours?" he guessed.

Suddenly, a man's voice came on over the intercom. _"A reminder to all passengers that due to the weekend engineering work, no trains are currently stopping at Clapham Junction."_

"About seven hours," Merlin corrected.

_"Merlin!"_ Gwen cried in exasperation.

"I'm joking!" Merlin reassured with a grin.

_"Not funny. I can't do this on my own, Merlin."_

_"Uh, hello...?"_ That was Lance. Merlin's grin faded into a gentle smile. It was hard to think all bad things about love when watching (or hearing) Gwen and Lance interact with each other. Even _Merlin_ could see how impossibly in love they were with each other. And even though it was (sometimes) sickening to watch, there was no denying how perfect the two were for each other. Merlin had seen it immediately when his friend had very first laid her eyes on Lance, and Lance had looked equally awestruck.

_"Don't forget the chocolate mousse,"_ came Gwen's voice again. _"Your mother's obsessed. And you've done your speech?"_

Merlin bit his lip guiltily, glad Gwen couldn't see him. "Yeah, I mean, I've got the rough draft," he said. He - wisely - left off the _kind of._

He should've known that Gwen would know him too well for that. _"No, you haven't. You've done a lot of doodles and crossing out."_

"Psshht. As if," Merlin said, though not very convincingly.

_"Come on. You know your mother loves it when you do a speech, so it needs to be good and special. Okay?"_

"Eh, _fine,_ " he agreed with great reluctance. Though, of course he would've done it. Anything for his mum.

Gwen laughed softly. _"Oh, and Merlin?"_

"Yeah?"

_"Don't go celibate just yet, hmm? It'll happen, I promise."_

Merlin rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he was sure Gwen could hear it when he said, "Yeah, yeah. _Goodbye,_ Gwen." He hung up without waiting for a reply, and took another - more casual - bite of his sandwich.

He'd known Gwen since he was seven years old and she'd moved in across the way from his house. They had been fast friends, together through thick and thin, and at one point he even thought he might've been going to marry her someday. Clearly, that wasn't meant to be (which Merlin was perfectly alright with; he was happy for her and Lance), but she had always been encouraging whenever he was convinced he would never find 'the love of his life'. She was also better than him in practically every way - case in point considering she was more on top of this anniversary party thing than he was. And it was for _his_ parents.

She was way too good for him, as everyone was quick to point out. 'Course, he had already known that.

He fished his notebook from his bag and opened it up to the page that had _Mum and Dad's Speech_ scribbled on the top. Gwen was right (as usual) about the numerous (and confusing) doodles, and the ceaseless crossing out. He thought he might as well get to work on it now, since he had a few hours.

That was when he was reminded of his mum's favorite neckerchief that she'd knitted for him, and he flipped back to the front pages of his notebook, quickly scribbling, _Red Kerchief Wash._

There. Good.

He was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. He looked up, at the man sitting across from him.

"Sorry. I couldn't help overhearing," he said, closing the blue book he had been reading and placing it on top of the table.

Merlin didn't say anything, just watched him with mounting irritation. He was young (they always were), and he had black hair and blue eyes, quite similar to Merlin, in fact.

Not that he'd made that connection.

The young man grabbed his book again. "You should really think about reading this," he suggested, flipping it the other way to set in front of Merlin.

Merlin mentally gave a long-suffering eye roll, especially when he read the title ( _'Six Billion People and You: A Guide to Meeting Your Mate in the Modern World')._

"Right. Right, right, right, right." He picked it up and flipped it over.

_'This book will change your life!'_ It proudly exclaimed.

Merlin's eyebrows rose of their own accord. He started to hand the book back. "Did it, then?"

"Did it what?" the younger man asked.

"Change your life?" Merlin said, taking another bite of his sandwich in the process.

"Oh, uh," the man started to nod. "Maybe. Yeah."

Hmm. That wasn't particularly convincing.

"But maybe not, as well?" Merlin asked impartially.

The man shrugged and didn't quite lose his optimistic tone. "Well, I like to give everything a go, because otherwise what's the point?" Merlin opened his mouth, but the young man cut him off. "You've got to hope it's going to work, haven't you? Because what is life without hope?"

He looked like he might've wanted a response. Merlin could only sit there and look at him.

"... Death."

"Mm," Merlin nodded emphatically, almost dropping his lunch in the process. "Death it is, then."

The man apparently found that amusing, for a reason Merlin couldn't possibly fathom. The laughter was clear in his voice when he said, "You see, you do need to read it."

Merlin wished he would stop talking already.

"I would lend you my copy," he continued, "but I need it for my date."

_Oh, how unfortunate,_ Merlin thought viciously. He said, "Why do you need a book for a date?"

The man smiled, clearly excited. "Oh, it's how we're going to recognize each other."

Merlin tried not to snort. "Oh, it's a setup? They always work." He would know. He didn't understand why this idiot (young as he still was) was trying to talk to him about relationships, when clearly, Merlin had been at it a lot longer than he. He felt like he might snap soon if the man (boy, really) didn't shut up.

The boy finally started to drop some of the enthusiasm. "They often work if the matchmaker has done their homework."

"Right," Merlin nodded, "because all successful relationships are based on whether you're both outdoorsy types--"

"I think you should read it," the boy cut him off.

Merlin wasn't terribly appreciative of that. "I don't--"

"It was an international best seller."

Merlin was really getting tired of this. "So was _'The Da Vinci Code.'_ "

"Oh, another excellent book."

Merlin shook his head firmly, "Not an excellent book."

The young man slapped the book onto the tabletop. "I think it's exactly what you need," he proclaimed.

Merlin squinted his eyes at him, trying to control the anger swirling in his belly. _Why_ was he still talking? Clearly, Merlin had no interest in stupid _books_ that tried to tell him how to have a relationship. He didn't need a damn book, or anything else. He was perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much.

He demanded, "Why is everyone always telling me what I need?"

The young man said crossly, "Perhaps if they're always telling you, you should listen."

Merlin had had enough. "I think you should _shh._ You need to _shh_ your mouth."

The boy-man gaped. "You want me to _shh?_ "

Merlin nodded. "I do, yeah. It would be great."

"I'm only suggest--"

"It's time." Merlin nodded more firmly to get his point across. "I think-- I think we're done."

He ignored the look of shock/hurt on the boy's face and went back to trying to write his damn speech. He fell asleep instead.

✯☽☀☾✯

_"Ladies and gentleman, we are now arriving at our final destination, London Waterloo."_

Merlin woke up with a start to the sight of an emptying train. He, unfortunately, caught sight of that stupid blue book still on the table, its owner no where to be found.

He brought it closer and noticed a bookmark that had a ridiculous drawn on smiley-face and a downward arrow.

_Right_. That boy needed this for his date.

Merlin tried to convince himself that he didn't care, he really did, but he was starting to feel guilty for the way he'd treated the young man. After all, in his own misguided way he had been trying to _help_ Merlin. If the boy had somehow forgotten this, the least Merlin could do was get it back to him to repay him for his... er, kindness.

Out of curiosity, he opened the book up to its bookmarked page. The title read, _'Your Negative Thoughts are Ruining Your Life (And Everyone Else's...)_.

Merlin harrumphed in mock-outrage. He wrenched his beanie from out of his bag and pulled it forcefully over his head, quickly grabbed his bag and the book, and rushed out of the train.

He headed in the direction following the flow of people, pushing and shoving his way through. "Sorry. Excuse me."

" _I'll say._ "

He shuffled his way through the crowd, and finally spotted a familiar head of curly black hair. He raced after the man with determined focus.

Merlin groaned at the short line he had to wait in for the turnstiles, watching regretfully as the young man walked further and further away.

Finally it was his turn, and he scanned his ticket. But when he tried to push through, the little plastic door things wouldn't budge. "What...?"

He tried again. And again. The groan of agitation was too much to hold in.

A worker in a bright yellow vest took pity on him, and managed to get him through. "There you go."

Merlin was already off, waving. "Cheers!"

He'd lost sight of the boy, but still Merlin headed in the general direction he'd seen him go, hoping that he might be able to catch up with him once more. He rushed through the throngs of people, jogging awkwardly with his bag hitting against his backside every other step and his beanie partially falling off his head.

Merlin came to a disappointed halt outside of a shop, standing on tip-toes to see past the heads of others. But he could not spot that of whom he was looking for.

"Where the fuck are you?" Merlin muttered to himself.

"I'm not that late, am I?"

Merlin whirled around at the sound of the voice, only to find who might quite possibly be the single most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in his entire life. His hair was blond and rich, like honey, eyes bluer than any London sky, jaw chiseled, physique intricately-sculpted and muscled, clear even under all the layers he wore. The dark trench coat he had on was especially expensive-looking, and the grey scarf wrapped around his neck, ends stuck into his coat collar, could very well cost more than Merlin's entire wardrobe combined.

"Sorry," the man said. "Somebody threw themselves on the track again."

Merlin couldn't close his mouth, still too in awe, but yet he couldn't form a coherent thought either, and didn't say anything. He probably looked every kind of idiot, standing there gaping like a moron when a beautiful man was right there in front of him, _talking_ to him like Merlin was supposed to have any idea what the hell was going on.

"I don't blame them, there's so many delays," he chuckled awkwardly. He looked down, only to bring up a familiar blue book, patting its cover. Merlin was quite certain he hated that book, at this point. "Hey, what a great way for us to recognize each other."

Merlin opened his mouth further, as if to say something (maybe to tell the man he'd made a mistake, it wasn't _him_ he was looking for), but nothing would come out.

"... What a great idea," the man continued, and really, it wasn't right that such a gorgeous and clearly successful man was blundering and looking all kinds of uncomfortable towards _Merlin_.

Honestly, Merlin chose _now_ to keep his mouth shut?

"Although," the man said (and, oh god, he was _babbling_ ; how endearing was that?), "I think it would have been pretty hard to miss you under that huge clock." He pointed upwards, and Merlin tilted his head to see that, yes, he was standing under the old four-faced clock that Waterloo was famous for.

Somehow, that gave Merlin the courage to start talking, as he looked back to the man, shaking his head frantically. "Oh. No, no, no..." he tried to explain, but was cut off.

"What do we do in terms of saying hello? I never know where to pitch it. Is it a handshake or is it a hug? I mean, is it formal? You know what, we're adults," the man said, suddenly leaning in. "Let's just go in--"

Merlin didn't know what was happening or what he was supposed to do, so he stood frozen and wide-eyed.

"Oh, too soon for that? Nope." And the stranger pecked him on the cheek. "Hello there."

Merlin really hadn't the slightest idea how to respond to that, but luckily, he didn't have to. His phone suddenly started ringing, and when he saw it was Gwen, he promised himself he would kiss her, just as soon as he saw her again.

"Oh, God, that's not your emergency exit phone call already?" the stranger asked, smiling. Merlin caught a hint of amusement as well as uncertainty in those aquamarine eyes, and suddenly he didn't know if he should answer or decline the call. "Because I haven't had a chance to use any of my best lines yet." He chuckled briefly, then abruptly said, "That wasn't one of them if you were worried."

Merlin blinked and found he was unable to function _anything_.

"I'll tell you what. How about I handle this?" the man took Merlin's phone from his pliable fingers and answered it for him, bringing it to his ear. "Hello, caller. Yes, we have met and I am not a complete psychopath and we've really hit it off. And, uh, he will call you later with all the gory details. So, thank you for calling and goodbye." He grinned at Merlin, ended the call, and handed the phone back to him. "There, done."

The only thing Merlin could do was take the phone. Now he was beginning to wonder if this was real, if this was actually happening, or if he was still asleep on the train and he'd never truly seen that stupid blue book in his life. He wasn't even sure which scenario he was hoping to be true.

"All right," the man said when he saw that Merlin was, apparently, mute. "So, book, check. And um, clock, check. And blind date. Check!"

Yes, Merlin realized, this was really happening. This beautiful, nervous man (whose name Merlin did not even know) thought that _Merlin_ was his 'blind date', when Merlin knew that that was most definitely not the case. Merlin hated setups, and the whole concept of blind dates perplexed and irked him and his analytical mind for how entirely _senseless_ they were. Whoever this man was, he was supposed to be meeting up with the cute kid Merlin had met on the train.

Most certainly not Merlin.

He needed to tell him. He was going to tell him. He really, truly was going to fix this unfortunate misunderstanding. Really.

"Usually when in this situation, I would say something and you'd say something back. And then we'd talk a little about what we're going to do and exchange ideas. You know, sort of, 'Quid pro quo, Clarice'."

Merlin laughed. Actually _laughed_. It was breathless, and perhaps a little deranged, but it was still a _response_.

"In hindsight, that wasn't the best impression to do on a first date, because it-- it brings to mind-- anyway, I'm talking a lot and I know you can sense it."

Merlin thought he might be in love. (Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating, but he'd never met a man quite like this one, and he certainly was in _something_.)

"... So I'm gonna just keep going with it, and I'm going to start the bidding with a drink on London's fashionable South Bank. So, um," he looked back down at his book, "as the book says, 'What are you waiting for?'"

He looked at Merlin, really looked at him. Merlin thought it might have been expectantly.

And, right, this was where he said something. This was where he told the man that, _sorry, you have the wrong person, I've never read this book in my life, I was actually trying to get it back to the real owner who has mysteriously vanished, but if you'd still like to get a drink sometime, let me know, because you're gorgeous and I can really see the two of us getting on._

What came out was, "I am waiting... for you?"

_Fuck._

Why did Merlin do these things? He was never this impulsive, usually. And he knew, reasonably, that this could never work out. It wasn't like he could just pretend to be a different person for the rest of his life. Obviously.

He was going to retract it, take back what he said, he really was. But then the man smiled, looking relieved as he said, "Good. Good."

And all Merlin could reply to that was, "Yeah."

The man's grin was blinding as he said, "So, uh, shall we...?" He gestured in front of himself. "After you."


End file.
